


Blood In The Water: Inspired Ficlets and Drabbles

by Usedtobehmc



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Absent Parents, Blood, Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:10:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2394644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usedtobehmc/pseuds/Usedtobehmc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pieces of writing spawned/inspired by the new comic update.  Sometimes I play fast and loose with canon details. Meh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He Came to the World in the Usual Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by: Harry Chapin
> 
> My child arrived just the other day  
> He came to the world in the usual way  
> But there were planes to catch and bills to pay  
> He learned to walk while I was away  
> And he was talkin' 'fore I knew it, and as he grew  
> He'd say "I'm gonna be like you, Dad  
> You know I'm gonna be like you"

Alice dabs her eyes with Spy's handkerchief.  To say that this "family meeting" hadn't gone as well as she'd hoped would be grossly understating it.  She trembles even as she sits in the family room with the weight of the bleak tension hanging in the air between her and her son. 

Scout doesn't meet her eyes, still fuming with fists clenched in the wake of the screaming match he'd just had with…

Spy's cologne still wafts through the room, even though he had left at her request over five minutes ago.  He did usually spray it on a bit thick, and a part of her mind laughably tells her that she'd have to ask him to lighten up a bit.  But he isn't here right now.  She and Scout are alone, just the two of them and Alice really has no idea what to say.  

What could she say?  She feels terrible; like the worst mother who ever lived.  Who _would_ ever live.  She'd kept it a secret all this time because Spy had enemies.  Dangerous, sick enemies.  People who would have no problem hurting or killing a woman and her 8 children for details on his whereabouts.  And even though it made sense… even though it was for their own safety, everyone's safety… She wonders if she should have told them anyway.

"He ain't my dad."  Scout's voice wavers with barely restrained anger.  "My dad's dead."  He doesn't look up from the floor.  This has been his repeated mantra of the afternoon.  

"Honey…"

"He _ain't_ my dad.  You're my _Ma_ and that's all, and that's the end of it."  He glares right at her, and it hurts her to her core to see Spy's eyes staring back at her with that cold, hateful defiance.  

Alice looks down at her hands, and Spy's handkerchief crumpled within them.  She can't think of anything to say.  It's too late to fix this.  Scout is a grown man.  Not a child.  

She nods, but can't stop the tears from falling.  She chokes back a sob even as her face crumples.

"Ma…"  Scout finally, _finally_ comes to her.  "Don't cry… c'mon.  I hate it when you cry."  He leans down to hug her, and she clings to him, sobbing outright now.  

"I'm so sorry honey--"  The words come out strained, broken and ugly, muffled against his shirt.  She thinks of all the times Scout cried when he was little, just a whip of a thing, wishing he had a dad like the other kids.  "This is all my fault--"  All the times she told the kids their dad was gone.  Just gone.  Maybe it wasn't outright lying… but lying by omission was just as bad.  

She clutches at him, her youngest, her baby.  He's so big now.  Taller than her.  Faster than a wink.  Wealthy.  Strong.  Handsome.  He'd insisted on sending her money every month even though she didn't need it.  He wrote her letters every week.  He always thanked her for the home-baked cookies that she sent.  

"Ma, it ain't your fault.  It ain't your fault."  He pats her back, much in the way she used to do to him when he was little and upset over something.

"I wanted…" she gasps, hiccups for breath.  "I wanted him to be there for you… I wished so hard that he had a different job so he could be your dad."

She feels him shake his head.  "Ma, I don't care that he wasn't there for me.  Psh, I did just fine without him."  He puts his arms around her and squeezes.  "I hate him cuz he wasn't here for _you_.  I hate him for that."

Alice's eyes widen.  It's been… never since Scout opened up to her like this.  Fair enough, she thinks, since she never opened up about Spy in the first place.

"He left you all _alone_ , Ma.  How could he do it?"  His voice sounds far away.  Alice remembers when he was small enough to fit in her lap after he had a nightmare.  

"Oh _honey_ ,"  she pulls him tight and kisses his temple.  "I was never alone.  _Never_.  I had my boys."

Alice feels the warmth of tears on her shoulder.

"I had my _boys_."  

 

 

 

...

 


	2. Golden Slumbers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by: The Beatles
> 
> Once there was a way to get back homeward  
> Once there was a way to get back home  
> Sleep pretty darling do not cry  
> And I will sing a lullaby
> 
> Golden slumbers fill your eyes  
> Smiles awake you when you rise  
> Sleep pretty darling do not cry  
> And I will sing a lullaby
> 
> Once there was a way to get back homeward  
> Once there was a way to get back home  
> Sleep pretty darling do not cry  
> And I will sing a lullaby

 

 

Bastards.

Fucking asshole, old-as-shite, cob-web infested _bastards_.  

Why even bring them on the sub?  Why not just leave them in the cave if they were just going to let Sniper bleed out like this?  

Because they wanted to see them suffer.  That's why.  Fuckin' camera in the ceiling would probably be played at their Christmas party or some shite.  Highlight reel of the year: including footage of The Sniper bleeding to death all over the holding cell.

 _Bastards_.

Demo kept his left hand firmly pressed over the superior bullet wound in Sniper's chest, and his right hand over the inferior one in Sniper's gut.  With the man cradled in his arms, Demo could feel how cold his friend's body was getting as blood continued to escape through his fingers.  

The others had tried to help, bless 'em.  Zhanna had taken strips of Soldier's uniform jacket and tied them tightly around Sniper's torso, pinching the wounds to discourage blood loss.  

Ms. Pauling had said she would try to get their old Medic to help before they hauled her away for questioning.  She hadn't been back since, and Demo didn't have a whole lot of hope for the poor, wee lass.  

Spy had even found it in his heart to _not_ state how hopeless Sniper's situation was.  Nice of him, really.  He was currently holding up the wall next to them, trying to look unmoved.  He would have fooled anyone but the men he'd been working with for the past seven years.  

Demo pushed back the surge of despair welling up from his chest and adjusted his grip on Sniper, pulling him closer.  Sniper gave a weak whimper; there was no energy behind it.

"Sorry, lad."  He flexed his fingers and pressed his palms harder into Sniper's torso again.  It was like trying to stop a dam from bursting.  His hands were sticky and soaked with warm blood, and he purposefully avoided looking at them.  Nothing would stop him from _trying_ , god damn it. 

"Srrr aye…"  slurred Sniper, trying to turn his head to look at Demo, but only making it halfway.  

"What's that?"  Demo adjusted his arms so he could lean his head forward and closer to Sniper's face.

"Sorry I… sorry I got you in the neck… twice."  Sniper's eyes were half-lidded, and stared straight ahead.

"Dunnae give it a second thought," Demo feigned some laughter.  "I woulda done the same thing, in your shoes."

Sniper made a light sound, something close to a chuckle.  He was silent for a few more minutes.

"My parents are dead…" he murmured.  His eyes welled up with tears.

"I'm sorry about that, mate."  Demo shook his head.  "D'ye mind me asking what happened?"  Part of him hoped that if he kept Sniper talking, it would help.

The wounded man huffed a pained breath.  "Just came home… they were gone.  No one… no one even sent me a fuckin' letter.  Not a phone call… ngh!"  He curled and unleashed harsh, hacking coughs that brought up blood from deep within his ruined lungs.  "I wrecked the place…."

"I saw," Demo nodded, remembering the poor state of the ramshackle house when he had been there not too long ago.  "Glad those other feckin' assholes didn't raise ya…"  The bitterness in his voice rang out loud and clear.  

"Fuckin' wankers."  Sniper agreed, struggling with each breath.  

"They didn't deserve you.  You hear me?"  He shook Sniper to attention.  "Fuck them."

"Fuck them," Sniper replied weakly, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips.  "My birth father… my birth father borrowed 50 bucks and left me to die."

Demo couldn't help it.  It was entirely inappropriate and more than a little insensitive but there was nothing else he could do: he laughed.  A deep belly laugh that shook the both of them where they sat.  "Ah god," he sighed and shifted again, ignoring the fresh wave of warm blood that seeped out between his fingers.  "Well, when we find him, we'll collect it with interest in the form of teeth, aye?  A new canine for yer hat."

Silence.

"This has been a really bad year for everyone."  Demo tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, but as he looked around the room and saw his friends' devastated expressions, he knew it was useless.  

Next to him, Spy sank to the ground and buried his face in his hands.  

 

 

 


End file.
